


“God, I missed you.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [45]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 06:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15989948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two.





	“God, I missed you.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZoeSong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeSong/gifts).



> Gifting to ZoeSong, who likes to muse about which one might be canon, if they ever get there - I’d kind of like it to go something like this. <3

It took every ounce of Strike’s self control not to text Robin until she had been away several days. He told himself he would wait until Wednesday, but by Sunday he was arguing with himself that Tuesday or even Monday was acceptable. Monday night football managed to distract him, and so Tuesday evening found him looking at his phone and trying to think up a pretext for getting in touch.

 _You’re being ridiculous,_ he told himself. He couldn’t quite believe how much he was missing her. The office that he had once preferred quiet was silent and dead without her. He hadn’t realised how much he bounced ideas off her, shared bits of information, until she wasn’t there. How he had come to rely on her restful company. He missed her smile, her floral scent, the beige coat hung by the door, the way his heart lightened at the sound of her feet on the stairs.

Did he need a work excuse? Surely they were good enough friends now that he could just text her. In the end he did just that.

“How was the wedding?”

Her reply was almost immediate, as though she had been waiting for him to text. _Don’t be silly,_ he told himself.

“Lovely. Anna looked radiant and Jonathan looked terrified :) How’s the office coping without me? x”

“It’s quiet! Hope you’re having a good week.” Strike knew Robin had been somewhat dreading her brother’s wedding, held in the same church she herself had got married in barely a year ago, having to face many of the same friends and relatives who by now all knew that her own marriage hadn’t even lasted six months.

“Quiet here too now wedding chaos is over and they’re on honeymoon. Just enjoying hanging out with Mum and Dad and Rowntree. x”

Robin had been afraid that Matthew’s parents would be at her brother’s wedding - the two families had been friends. Strike couldn’t find a way to frame the question, and decided that was too personal to broach anyway, so he left it.

“Sounds lovely. See you next week.”

He felt deflated now, somehow. He’d been looking forward to texting her. He had no reason to do so again, no reason for any more communication now until he saw her on Monday morning.

The rest of the week dragged. He tailed suspects, wrote notes, made mugs of tea, smoked at his desk, left the toilet seat up. He should have enjoyed the solitude. His office had become a man cave again. But it was too quiet.

On Friday he went to Nick and Ilsa’s for dinner and fielded questions about Robin and how she was, and weathered accusations of being too quiet. The weekend stretched long and empty ahead of him, but at least on Monday she’d be back and he could feel normal again. Could feel complete again.

On Saturday he shopped and did laundry as always, and settled down to watch the football in the afternoon. His phone pinged and he nearly ignored it, but then he picked it up and glanced at the message and his heart leapt. Robin.

“On train to King’s Cross. Just wondered, if you’re not busy, if you fancy meeting for a quick drink? You could fill me in on this week so I’m ready to go on Monday. Only if you’re not busy. I get in at 7 x”

A huge grin broke across Strike’s face and he texted straight back. “Great idea. See you then.”

Heart light suddenly, he found himself whistling as he pottered about his flat, tidying up and folding laundry as the football played in the background. He cooked himself an early tea, washed up, showered and changed and set off in plenty of time to meet Robin. Far too early in fact, telling himself he was allowing time to find a pub near King’s Cross with good beer. In fact, his footsteps drifted into the station itself, his eyes scanning the arrivals board, looking for her platform.

 _Are you seriously going to meet her off the train like a lovesick teenager,_ he asked himself. But he couldn’t wait any longer to see her, impatience in his steps now as he found the platform and paced up and down it a little. _You’re pathetic_ , he thought. But his heart lurched again as the train came into view and trundled slowly down the platform.

The train rolled to a stop. There was a pause, and then the doors opened and people poured out of the carriages. He hung back a little, searching for a red-gold head in the crowds. He was just beginning to think he had missed her when there she was, gorgeous hair swinging, rucksack over her shoulder. She spotted him as he spotted her, and she grinned and waved. His heart swelled at the sight of her, so beautiful and familiar and so very Robin. Happiness coursed through him, answered in her beaming smile and quickened steps as she approached.

 _I’m in love with her._ It was so obvious, suddenly. How had he not realised it before? They just... belonged. His heart was complete again now she was back. He hadn’t even realised she had taken a piece of it with her. Before he could finish the thought, she was there in front of him, so real and perfect. He was grinning at her like an idiot, he knew, and she looked just as delighted to see him.

There was a brief pause as they gazed at one another, and Strike just couldn’t hold back any more. He couldn’t keep his whole heart inside of his chest. He couldn’t stay just friends. He couldn’t hide how he was feeling. He stepped forward. Gently, reverently, he cupped her face in his big hands and kissed her soft lips. He saw her eyes light up as she realised his intention, and then they drifted closed as he kissed her. The rucksack slid from her shoulder and was dropped to the floor, and her arms came up around his neck, pulling him closer.

He kissed her with all the months of love and longing that had built up inside him, and she kissed him back as though she had been feeling the same way. Nothing else mattered, not the past, not Charlotte, not Matthew, not trying to be friends and colleagues, nothing. All that mattered was this, this meeting of lips, mingling of breath, sliding of tongues, stroking of hair. She filled his senses and he willingly drowned for a long minute.

Eventually, reluctantly, Strike pulled back and rested his forehead on Robin’s. “Hi,” he said softly. She giggled. “Hi,” she answered dreamily.

“God, I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” she replied.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The last of these for a while, till we see what Lethal White brings :))


End file.
